


FAMILY PHOTOGRAPHS

by truesnxcc



Category: Original Work
Genre: Identity, Other, Short Story, Transgender, transfemale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23101273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truesnxcc/pseuds/truesnxcc
Summary: This is a short story i wrote for my english class on identity, I’m rather proud of it !
Kudos: 3





	FAMILY PHOTOGRAPHS

He never knew truly who he was. Growing up without his father was rough and often gave him troubles. Most things other kids did with their fathers were absent in his own life. Michael often laid awake at night. Swarmed with melancholy thoughts and the dreaded feeling of being nothing more than a loser that was labeled incorrectly. 

Long ravenous locks fell down his neck, just past his shoulders. The lanky teenager was cleanly shaven, having been at that point in his life where facial hair was present almost every couple days throughout his existence. Muddy green eyes looked longingly into an old family photo. The way his younger self smiled back at him in such an innocent manner gave him chills throughout his entire body. This wasn’t him.

Michael was always undecided with things. He had always just felt lost. Nothing made sense to him, that including the way he dressed, his friends, the way he talked, everything just felt so foreign. He often thought, maybe if he had his father to guide him through his hardships, he wouldn’t feel so lost on the path to his identity. 

He knew others saw him as nothing more than a brute delinquent. He scared almost every single person at his high school. Nobody wanted to mess with him, and boy if they did, he usually gave them what they deserved. Labels were something plastered all over him, and he just didn’t understand why others had to make assumptions on a person just because of one thing they’ve seen. 

Sure, Michael sometimes got into fights, he smoked a few cigarettes, and often went out to numerous parties. But this wasn’t what made up his identity, and he wished that other people could see that. 

But, as much as he wished that others could see his true identity, he himself wasn’t sure if that was the greatest idea in the world. His mother always called him her sweet little boy, pinching his cheeks and annoying him quite consistently. Michael, however, didn’t feel like a sweet little boy, he felt confused and distraught most of the time. 

“Are you doing alright in there, Michael?” Michael knew from the softness in the woman’s voice behind his closed door, that it was his mother. “I’m perfectly fine, Mom. Did you need something?” He had asked, placing the old family photo under the pillow that laid upon his neatly made bed. “I was going to tell you that supper was done, you should come on down instead of eating in your room, I have to leave for work tonight so I’d like to have a meal with my son.”

Michael’s mother was probably right, Michael had been spending the majority of his days locked up in his room. If he had school, right afterward he’d just come straight up and isolate himself from the world. In hindsight, it wasn’t healthy for him. “I’ll be right down, Mom. Thank you.” With that, nothing else had been said. 

Michael sluggishly pulled himself from his bed. Tiredly contemplating on why he said yes to go downstairs and eat dinner. He was having second thoughts, now just wanting to stay isolated in his quiet, blue-colored room. But, alas, he made his way out of his room and down the seemingly very long staircase leading there. Were they always this horribly long?

With each step he took down the stairs, he felt as though more steps had been added on. Upon reaching the end of the seemingly never-ending staircase, he dragged his feet on the wooden floors, his long bleached jeans making a sound as the fabric dragged across the floor. Sitting down at the table for dinner with his mother seemed to become more and more of a chore. 

“Thank you, Michael. It’s nice to be able to finally sit down and have a meal with my sweet little boy!” His mother’s words made him sigh as he slumped down in his chair. “Yeah,” was all that came from his lips, he felt his skin crawl lightly like a thousand spiders were creeping their way along his body. Something about his mother’s words didn’t sit with him correctly. 

Throughout dinner, Michael pushed his food around with his fork, he didn’t feel like eating, he felt rather sick actually. He was bearing the guilt of not telling his mother something he probably should have said a long time ago. God, it was so blatantly obvious that he was kind of shocked his mother had yet to find out. 

“Michael, are you alright honey?” This is what brought him out of his trance. He stopped pushing his food around and looked up to his mother, he felt guilty with the sheer look of worry that was written all across her face. “I’m fine.” That’s all he said, he had always been a man of so little words. 

His mother hadn’t been all too sure that Michael was okay, call it parental instincts, but she knew for a fact he wasn’t being one hundred percent truthful with her lately. She was pretty laid back, she let Michael do the things he wanted to do, as long as he was in no legal trouble, she was almost always okay with it. He was a teenager, and she trusted him to make his own decisions. 

As Michael sat there, he just continued to feel sicker, he just wanted to scream out to the world his secret, but others probably wouldn’t take it that lightly. Along with thinking about his life would be so much easier with his father around, he often thought about if his father was here, he’d probably be disappointed in him. That also came with the thought of maybe his father didn’t want to stay with them because his son was an embarrassment. 

That’s when Michael had to ask, it had been sitting in his mind about as long as his secret had. “Was dad embarrassed by me?” The question caught his mother off guard, she was shocked, to say the least. “Michael, what makes you say that?” She was concerned about where that thought had come from so suddenly. Was her son thinking of this often? Is that what was wrong with him lately?

“I don’t know exactly, I just feel like having a son who was different from everybody else would cause him to be embarrassed,” Michael placed his silverware down beside his untouched plate of dinner. “Michael, Your father wasn’t embarrassed by you, you know that he is a busy man.” Michael sighed lightly, only giving a simple nod. “I understand…” Was all that Michael had said in this moment. “Thank you for supper.” He thanked his Mother and stood up from his seat. 

“Michael, you haven’t touched your plate, aren’t you hungry?” His mother asked in a solemn way. “I’m not feeling that well, I’ll just put it into the fridge and eat later if I feel like it.” Michael grabbed ahold of his plate and walked it into the kitchen. He grabbed some tin foil to wrap it up in, and then placed it on the middle shelf of the fridge. 

Heading back upstairs, Michael had said not a word to his mother. The feeling of nausea and guilt was consuming him, and he wanted to be alone again in the comfort and safety of his bedroom. He hadn’t even said goodbye to his mother, knowing well enough that she had been leaving to work another night shift for her job. 

Michael’s mother had cleaned up from supper after Michael had made his leave from the table. She cleaned the dishes, put them in their respectful places, and then it was time for her to get ready for work. Admittedly, Michael’s mother didn’t like working night shifts, because Michael had to be home alone for the time being until her return. But, Michael was nearing adulthood, and she trusted in him that he could survive on his own without getting into trouble. 

Nothing was said in the house except for Michael’s mother calling out a goodbye to her son before she had left. Now Michael was all alone in the depths of his room, laying out on his bed. He had the picture back in his hand and stared at the young boy, tears forming in his eyes. This time as the young boy had stared back at him, it brought tears to his face. 

“You never embarrassed him, so stop spending all your years thinking you did.” He spoke to his younger self with a wavering voice. Even if he was just talking to an old photograph of himself it felt comforting in a strange way. He wished as though he could be back with younger Michael and tell him everything would be okay, and growing up without his father would only make him grow stronger. 

Michael waited out the long hours of the night, he had a phone call to make. That phone call had to be done at a certain hour of the night. That hour being when his mother was on her break. Shaking hands picked up the phone, dialing his Mother’s cell phone number. He listened to the phone ring, and each time it did he grew more anxious. What if she didn’t pick up? But as quickly as he had thought about that, he heard a soft click and his Mother’s tired voice. “Hello?” 

“Hey, Mom. It’s Michael, I wanted to call you and tell you something important.” His voice was just barely a whisper, his nerves were absolutely shot, he was having second thoughts once again. “What is it, sweetie? Is everything alright, do you need me to come home?” Her voice was laced with concern, it wasn’t like Michael to call her at work, especially this late during the night. 

“Mom, I’ve been hiding something from you for quite some time. A secret if you will.” He began to talk, his voice still relatively quiet. He knew he had to do this, he had to tell his mother, second thoughts or not. His mother didn’t speak any words, she wanted to allow her son to speak without being interrupted by her. “I’m a girl, and I’m hoping you can start to address me as such.” 

Michael hung up the phone, leaving the conversation at that. In place of his phone, he picked the family photo back up. He stared at his younger self with hair falling down just past his shoulders. His mother’s old clothes draped on his small body. “You shouldn’t be scared to find your identity. Don’t let others label you incorrectly.”


End file.
